Friendship for Dummies

Chapter Nine

            Crap.

            I knew as soon as I turned over the paper that I was going to flunk it. And, by the looks of the amount of red crosses scrawled all over the sheets, I had been right.

            “This one didn’t go so well, huh?” Mr. Moore says, but his voice is far from patronizing. I know for a fact that any other teacher would launch straight into a lecture about how I didn’t study enough, but he actually seems understanding. I suppose it’s just another reason why his fan club is so extensive.

            I bite my lip. “Not really…”

            “Everyone has bad days, but… a lot of your tests have been like this. Are you having trouble in class, Georgie?”

            Suddenly, I find myself under the intense gaze of his hazel eyes. Does he have to look at me like that? He should know by now that it’s incredibly hard for anyone to concentrate when those beauties are boring into them. I rack my brain for a suitable answer, but come up short. My head is way too jumbled from the complications of my everyday life to form a coherent sentence right now, let alone think about how I’m going to pass algebra this year.

            “It’s fine if you are. I’m not the world’s greatest teacher,” he comments jokily, although he knows perfectly well that almost everyone in the school thinks he is.

            “Um, yeah... I mean, I’ve always struggled with math...”

            He holds up my test paper, handing it to me. When I catch sight of the score scrawled on the front, I don’t even bother to suppress my grimace. Wow... when I thought I flunked it, I was so right. “With your answers, I can see you’re halfway there...” he muses. “You just don’t understand it fully, right?”

            Well, I don’t even understand half of it, but let’s go with that one.

            “Right.”

            If I could, I would drop out of this class faster than... well, a fast thing. Believe me, there’d be no hesitation about that one. Algebra is pretty much the chart-topper on my list of subjects that make me want to tear my hair out, along with gym, of course. However, if I don’t pass at least one math-related class this year, I know full well that college will be a distant dream.

            And being stuck in this town for the rest of my life? I can’t say that’s too appealing.

            “Well, we could always see about you getting some help,” Mr. Moore says, running a hand through his shiny-looking hair. “Perhaps a tutor?”

            His eyes are on me again, shooting me a questioning look. Once again, I’m rendered practically speechless, feeling myself shrinking in size under their intensity. Ugh... does he have to keep doing this? Maybe it’s way of subconscious hypnosis. Instead of replying, I find myself nodding slowly. Although, with the way he’s currently looking at me, I think I would agree to anything he says.

            Especially if the offer for the make out session still stands...

            Shut up, brain.

            “Great!” he responds, shifting his attention to the rest of the class’ tests which are still lying untouched on his desk. After a split-second of hesitation, he snatches them up, flicking through the names scrawled on the top of each one whilst inspecting each one’s score. There are a couple of grimaces – although their results are probably still better than mine – which makes me feel marginally better. I’m well aware I’m probably at the bottom of the class, but it’s still reassuring to know there are people almost as suck-ish as me.